Survival of the Fittest

Walking down the main corridor of the castle, Minerva gave Albus a disapproving look. “Other than the fact that they have stopped hexing one another, I see no difference,” she said, unable to keep the note of disappointment from her tone. “Hermione and Severus are no more a couple than you and I are.”

Albus kept walking toward the Great Hall. “I’m wounded, Minerva,” he replied, purposely goading her into a conversation that was long overdue. “I would have thought our time in Istanbul amounted to something. Or am I just another notch in your bedpost?”

“Will you be quiet?” she shushed loudly, looking over her shoulder to make sure no one had overheard his comment. She glared at the portraits, silently daring at them speak about what they overheard.

“We agreed never to mention that night,” she whispered, “or repeat it.”

“I’m afraid I couldn’t repeat that night – age and all.” Albus smiled. “But I’m willing to try if you are.”

“Excuse me, Headmaster.” The quick clack of petite boots interrupted the playful conversation. “May I have a word with you?”

Slowing his pace, Dumbledore waited for Hermione to catch up.

“Have you found a replacement yet?” Hermione asked breathlessly. “Good morning, Professor McGonagall.

“Two weeks are almost up,” the young witch reminded her soon-to-be former employer. “I would appreciate expedition regarding the matter of my resignation. I shan’t be able to remain past Friday. I’ve accepted another position –”

“I really wish you would reconsider, Hermione,” Minerva entreated, giving Albus a sidelong glance.

Hermione shook her head and looked down. “I’m sorry, Professor. I can’t,” she affirmed softly.

Clearing his throat, Albus motioned chivalrously for the women to proceed him. “I regret to inform you that I have been unable to locate a suitable replacement. I guess I’ll just have to get Hagrid to substitute until I can find some one.”

Minerva’s eyes narrowed and she cleared her throat pointedly. He wasn’t going to be able to wiggle out of this lie. She knew for a fact that Albus hadn’t advertised either position. What was the old wizard up to?

Whatever he was up to, Albus had better hurry. Hermione would be leaving in three days.

--

Severus glowered at Dumbledore as the old man escorted Minerva and Hermione into the Great Hall. Of all the times for the puppet master to stop meddling, this was not the time! Hermione’s cheeks were flushed, a color he remembered all too well from his dreams – dreams that were still replaying nightly in his sleep.

He’d spent the last week and a half trying to devise a plan. For all his Slytherin cunning, Severus found each plan lacking. Yes, each plan wound up with him buried deep inside her. One dream was especially torturous. That was the dream where his lover was the most agreeable duvet, and with a shift of his hips and the assistance of his hand, he slipped into her sultry depths.

Sex. That’s all it had ever been for him. That’s all he had ever needed. He’d cursed himself ever since he had returned to Hogwarts. He had spent weeks alone with her, ignoring her, goading her, seducing her. He knew nothing about her other than what their mutual history afforded them.

She was Muggle-born, Potter’s friend, strong-willed, and intelligent. Hermione would never settle for a purely sexual relationship. Is that what he really wanted anyway?

“Good morning, Severus,” Albus greeted him cheerily as he pulled a chair out and offered it to Minerva.

“Headmaster,” acknowledged Severus, not even attempting to disguise the contempt in his voice.

Minerva took her seat and nodded to him. He stood up and pulled the chair next to him out. \"Good morning, Miss Granger. This seat is available.”

The normal, boisterous clatter and hum in the hall ceased and Severus could feel the curious stares of the students and faculty.

So could Hermione, judging by the embarrassed blush that had crept up her neck. “Thank you, Professor Snape,” she muttered quickly, sitting down and folding her napkin in her lap.

Instead of caving to the pressure of the unwanted audience, Severus forged ahead. Sitting down, he glared at the students, who looked away as if they had found something very interesting on their plates.

“I was wondering if you would be so kind as to assist me in locating a book, Miss Granger,” he stated as if he conversed with her all the time. “I’m looking for a book on spider venom, which I used during my seventh year – Poisonous Spiders of Central America.”

“I, um –”

“I found an updated edition,” Severus continued, picking up his fork and stabbing at his bangers. “However, the information I was looking for is not in the edition.”

“We archive previous editions in the stacks,” Hermione replied hesitantly. “I’ll see what I can do.”

--

Not now, Hermione pleaded with her wildly beating heart. Why did he have to do that?

She hurried down the hallway, under the delusion that if she reached the library she would be safe. There, she could lose herself in the books. Books were safe. They didn’t judge. They didn’t talk in sultry tones that made her toes curl.

“Bugger! I sound like one of those totally unrealistic romance novels Ginny is always reading,” she moaned.

Had she really entertained the idea that Severus Snape would actually want to continue as her lover? What the hell had she been thinking?

That you would enjoy an ongoing relationship with him? a mocking inner voice asked.

“Yes,” she answered out loud, walking into the silent library and trying not to let the disappointment overwhelm her. She had accepted a position at Gringotts. She didn’t want to leave Hogwarts, but there was no way she could stay now – not when she was wanting to make a spectacle of herself and beg the Hogwarts’ Potions master to shag her over the nearest library table.

For Merlin’s sake! She hardly knew the man.

“Miss Granger?” a timid voice asked, shattering her reverie.

Hermione turned to see Melody Kilpatrick standing against the heavy oak door. “Miss Kilpatrick.” Hermione smiled at the young Gryffindor student. “How did you do on your essay?”

Melody brightened. “Professor Dumbledore threw the essays away, giving every one passing marks. He said Charms are learned through repetition and practical applications, and Potions should be the same way.”

Giggling softly, Hermione motioned for the girl to come into the library.

“I-I just wanted to thank you for sticking up for me,” Melody explained. “I wasn’t cheating. Honest.”

“I know you weren’t.”

Melody took an indecisive step toward the study area. “Professor Snape has set another essay. I wanted to get a head start on it while I had some free time.”

“That is a novel concept, Miss Kilpatrick,” a stern voice commented from the doorway.

Hermione didn’t know who jumped higher – herself or Melody. All she knew was that Melody was behind her, clutching her robes as if they were her lifeline. Feeling the familiar ire rise, Hermione scowled.

“Professor Snape,” she snapped, “if you’ve come to bully the students, I suggest you leave.”

“Th-that’s okay, Miss Granger,” the young Gryffindor stammered, letting go of her robes and dashing toward the exit. “I-I need to… to go do…something.”

--

Miraculously, Severus managed to keep his features neutral. It would not do to have a row with Hermione now. As Minerva had pointed out to him shortly after lunch, time was of the essence. His lover was taking another position in three days – one that would remove her from his influence. Why had he waited so long? Blast Albus Dumbledore to hell! So why had he picked now, of all time, to quit meddling in his affairs?

Unlike the portraits in the headmaster’s office, his portraits knew better than to gossip in front of him. But they had finally broken down and had told him of Hermione’s resignation. Like a madman, he had argued with them, telling them that she couldn’t resign because he already had. That was two days ago.

“There!” Hermione slapped the counter. “Are you happy now? You’ve terrified poor Melody. Now you can go on about your day.”

“It’s a wonder she was ever sorted into Gryffindor House,” Snape replied sharply, regretting the acerbic words as they rolled off his tongue.

“Unbelievable,” she muttered under her breath and walked behind the counter. “Is there something I can help you with, Professor Snape?”

Her words were forced and clipped. How was he ever going to cut through her resentment? He pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed.

“The archive,” he said. “You were going to check the archive for me.”

“That was only half an hour ago,” she retorted. “Can’t it wait?”

“Time is of the essence, Miss Granger,” Severus said, walking toward the counter. “My class starts in an hour and I need the book for a potion I am working on.”

Her eyes flashed angrily at him as she assessed the urgency of his need. She needn’t know that he had a copy of the book he was requesting in his private collection.

“Oh, very well, then,” she grumbled begrudgingly. “Follow me.”

--

Even with the Anti-Dust charm, there were still specks of dust floating in the air. With a quick wave of her wand, Hermione rid the room of the musty smell and errant dust. Besides, it gave her something to do – to take her mind off the fact that she was alone in the stacks with Severus Snape.

Walking to the first row of books, Hermione pulled a large catalog from the middle shelf. “I’ll just look in the catalog to see if the edition you so desperately need is in this section.”

She tried focusing on the words on the page, but he was pacing back and forth behind her. “What was the title of the book again?”

“What?” he answered.

“The book,” she snapped irritably. “The title of the book.” Did he think she walked up the spiral staircases for her health?

“Poisonous Spiders of Central America,” he murmured directly behind her.

“Sounds fascinating.” She rolled her eyes.

“It’s a rather dry topic.”

“Here it is,” she said, tapping the page enthusiastically. She slammed the book shut and jumped up so quickly that she lost her balance, falling backwards into solid Severus. Strong arms wrapped around her waist and she could feel his breath on the back of her neck.

His hand flexed on her stomach and she could feel the instant rush of arousal pool between her legs. Before she surrendered to her traitorous desires, she removed herself from temptation and stomped toward the lines of shelves. “The b-book should be down this isle. Lumos, she whispered, holding up her wand.

--

Bugger the book, Severus thought as he followed her. How was it that a twenty-something ex-student could incite such a deep passion within him? Merlin’s balls! He didn’t even know how old she was.

The climb into the stacks had been quite the ordeal for him, watching her shapely bum sway back and forth. Gods, I’m pathetic, lusting after a woman who is young enough to be my daughter. Not only that-- she’s Potter’s friend!

That alone should be enough deterrent.

Her wand cast shadows along the rows of books as she guided them deeper into the maze of discarded literature and scientific journals. Hermione searched for the book, seemingly unaware that he was even there. But he knew better.

Having felt her trembling in his arms again, the familiar thirst for her consumed him. He needed her. He needed her to need him.

Stooping over, she examined the spines of books closely and picked one out. “Here it is,” she announced triumphantly as she straightened to hand it to him.

With quick reflexes that had been honed during the war, Severus clasped her wrist in one hand and the book in the other. He set the book on a vacant space on the shelf, pressing her against the books and possessing her mouth.

She capitulated easily, welcoming his advances with abandon. She mewled excitedly, inflaming his ardor. He released her wrist, pleased that she did not try to push him away or pull away. She wanted him just as much as he wanted her if her hands slipping under his frock coat were any indication.

Her wand clattered to the floor, lending its light to the impassioned couple and casting shadows around them.

Somehow she had managed to undo enough buttons to slip her hand between the folds of material and scrape her fingertips across his chest, destroying what little resolve he had. Severus destroyed the tidy bun of her hair as he fisted his hand through her now errant tresses. Bending her head back, he exposed the slope of her neck and feasted on her flesh, taking pleasure in the sounds of her helplessly rapid breathing.

Would it always be like this? Always? Where in the bloody hell had that thought come from?

As he made his mark upon her tender skin, Severus thrust his knee between her thighs.
The realization that he wanted…no…needed her was almost laughable. Yet, that small part of him – the one that struggled to survive during the war – would no longer be silenced. Not only did he need to fuck her where she stood, he needed to convince her that she needed him as well.

He needed –

“SNOGGING IN THE STACKS! SNOGGING IN THE STACKS!” a high-pitched squeal echoed through the library.

Bloody fucking hell! If it wasn’t the blasted meddler or portraits interfering or gossiping, it was the blasted castle ghosts.

Hermione shoved him away with a curse and reached for her wand. “Peeves!” she yelled, trying to run past Severus, but he would not relinquish his hold.

“I will deal with that menace later,” he said, his inflection low and effective. She held her wand between them and he took great care disarming her. Now he knew why Albus had stranded them without wands. His lover was a very capable witch and he had no doubt that he would have suffered very inventive hexes.

Severus chuckled.

--

It was like having a bucket of ice cold water thrown on her. He was laughing at her. Thank Merlin she was leaving in three days! Would the humiliation ever stop? And now he had her wand! Shoving against his chest, she struggled to free herself.

“Let me go,” she demanded in a hushed whisper as she realized that she was in the quiet sanctuary of the library.

“Not until we get a few things settled between us,” he insisted, brushing his lips against her forehead.

“Us?” Hermione laughed mirthlessly. “There is no us! We are co-workers who happened to be shanghaied by our employer, imprisoned on a tropical paradise, and…and –”

His lips pressed against hers, silencing her protests. It was like none other that they had shared for it was a gentle caress, masking the hidden passion that they could so easily tap into.

“Do I have to do this the hard way?” he asked, his voice thick with want. “Or the easy way?”

“Uh.” When asked a question, she always tried to answer it, even if it was only a hypothetical one.

His lip curled in a seductive sneer. “As much as I would enjoy divesting you of your robe, skirt, and blouse, this is not really the idyllic place to pick up where we left off.”

“Wh-where we left off?” she stammered, deliberately being obtuse for she did not want to be reminded of her recent behavior. She might as well have been wearing a neon sign around her neck that advertised that she had shagged him, and that she was still in love with bastard.

His coal black eyes widened in surprise. “Are you daft, woman? Did you self-Obliviate yourself?”

“Of course not,” she retorted snappishly, trying to push him away. “I have decided to ignore what happened between us. It isn’t exactly a behavior I’m proud of and not one I care to repeat. One does not go around shagging ex-professors and –”

Severus roared with laughter, but sobered quickly as he stayed her attempts at escape. “I never would have imagined your prudish nature given the passion you so readily demonstrated at the cottage.”

He brushed his fingertips across her lips and stared into her eyes. She shivered as flashes of memories flickered before her. They were like foggy remnants of a long-forgotten past, drawing her back into an illusion where Severus actually cared for her. Declarations of love echoed in her thoughts, as passion-filled visions seduced her reason. It was as if something was pulling on her. It felt like she was drugged.

Yielding to the euphoria, Hermione giggled. This was just another one of those silly little dreams. Only the setting had changed and his resentful demeanor had vanished.

“Are you inside my mind, Severus?” she whispered slowly, reluctantly embracing this new dream. She wanted to just close her eyes and wallow in the feelings, but found she could not close her eyes. “I feel –”

“Only a highly-skilled Legilimens can enter one’s thoughts without being detected,” Severus replied unwaveringly. “Are you afraid of me, Hermione.”

Her name rolled off his lips, sending a shiver to run along her spine. She felt as though she were drowning. “Of course not,” she answered slowly.

The mist of confusion lifted and she stiffened against him.

“Good.” His breath tickled her cheek. “Have dinner with me tomorrow evening.”

*****

A/N – Up next! The end!